That Man Took My Life

This may be just a story to you, but this is a precious life to me.  She doesn't want to share her name, but she said I could share her story (words in brackets are mine):

One day I was coming from school with one of my friend. A man came and ask us a way to Moneni. When I show him the way, he hold my hands and force me in the bush. My friend ran away.
The man took my exercise books [note books] and make them a bed. He rape me on top of my school exercise books. ... The man have STI's [no HIV] I found out myself. My body was weak so I ask my teacher what is wrong when a person feel this and this in her body. She told me that it when the person have STIs so that mean I have STIs. I got it that day and I did not tell my mother because it make me feel like I'm nothing and no one care about me. 

[Years later she still suffers with the pain of this memory, especially since school books are a part of the nightmare...] At school...I sometime see the man taking my exercise books and I will go to sit at the toilet so that I will not see his face. 

[People who know what happened] will look at me as if I'm die.
That man took my life he took my happiness, my pride and every things away from me. 

This doesn't have to be the end of the story for her and for so many others like her.  Show them there's hope and healing by supporting the operating costs of Hope for Life Home, projected to open February, 2013, for sexually and physically abused and at-risk girls in Swaziland. Visit www.hoseasheart.org to donate or for more information.

The World is not Meant for You

"The world is not meant for you."

Her own mother told her she shouldn't even be alive.

The seemingly joyful reunion between Tenele and her real mother turned bitter while I was in Swazi over Thanksgiving break.  It was Lucia's first birthday, so we were going to celebrate together at Tenele's homestead with her mother and sisters.  When we (Christina, Ayanda, Johannes, Pununu, and I) got there, Tenele met us on the dirt road to walk us to her homestead.  Her eyes were tired and she gave a weak greeting; I immediately knew something was wrong.  After greeting her friends, she broke down in tears.  Pununu translated for me since Tenele wasn't speaking in English.  "Family problems," he said to me.  The walk to the homestead was confusing, as Tenele continued to cry but wouldn't tell me what was going on.  She finally said her mother told her "the world is not meant for you" and it'd be better if she were gone.

Instead of a joyful birthday celebration, the afternoon was one of chaos as I tried to communicate with Tenele's mother (who spoke not even a word of English) about what was going on.  While we tried desperately to communicate, Tenele's sobs could be heard from the other room, and I felt so helpless.  Finally, I asked the sister who spoke some English (but refused to translate because she told her mom she didn't want to be in the middle of it and was trying to stick up for Tenele), "Should we leave?"  The sister nodded hesitantly and said, "And take Tenele with you."

Tenele's mother tried keeping Lucia there and told Tenele since Tenele owed money that she would keep Lucia.  When her mother found out I understood that, she changed her mind.  She only let Tenele take one bag of stuff (which was all Lucia's) and kept Tenele's clothes there.  It was a heartbreaking end to my short week in Swazi.

On the bus ride back into Manzini, Ayanda relayed the whole story to me and said, "Her mother has a cold heart for her; I don't want Tenele to go back."  Apparently, Tenele was having a hard time living there when her mother would care for her sisters and not as much for Tenele.  They ended up getting into a fight one day and Tenele asked through tears, "Why don't you love me like your other children?"  Her mother cold-heartedly responded, "You are not my child.  You are a whore," and continued to tell her she was worthless and the world was not meant for her.

After it was all over, I told Tenele she was a strong young woman who has been through so much time and time again.  She looked at me still with tears in her eyes but peace in her heart and said, "Some day she'll remember me... some day."

After all that was said to her and all the pain (built up from when Tenele was sent away as a small child) Tenele still had the grace to understand that she wasn't going to harbor bitterness but that she knew someday her mother would understand what she has done to Tenele and the guilt would be there, and she'd "remember" (care).

So back to square one with my T-bell and baby Lucia.  Where do they stay now?  I tried asking a few Swazi friends to help them out but nobody seems to want to sacrifice for a teenager and her baby.  There's a lot of "talk" about caring for each other and being the hands and feet of Jesus but little action.  I was quite heartbroken actually at the lack of care from my own Swazi friends who don't want to inconvenience themselves by letting Tenele stay with them for awhile.

So she is back in Mangwaneni, and Cedric (Lucia's father and who Tenele usually stays with) is in prison.  Christina has been trying to care for them, but even the food she had given to Tenele was stolen.  Tenele said she's scared sometimes because she doesn't know where the food will come from.  She doesn't know when she and Lucia will be able to eat.  Lucia got sick again, had worms, and a bad skin condition.  Tenele, out of desperation told Ayanda she doesn't want Lucia anymore and wants to send her away--not because she doesn't love her, but out of her desperate situation.

Through all of this, Tenele has been so steady though; when I talked to her on Christmas, she was hopeful, and that is a beautiful thing.  Because she is hopeful so am I; I know she will be okay; I know God will take care of her; I know she will still change the world someday.

 Her mother was right, the world is not meant for her, because she is meant for bigger things than the world.

Happy Thanksgiving from Swazi

Happy Thanksgiving from Swazi!

Obviously they don't celebrate Thanksgiving in Swaziland, or any other country for that matter.  So the whole rule of thumb that you can't celebrate Christmas before Thanksgiving is non-existent.  Santa Claus has been planted in the local grocery store for weeks and you can hear Christmas music every once in awhile.  Christina and I did our best to stay away from any Christmas spirit until after today, when we finally celebrated Thanksgiving.  I love this holiday; it's kind of like Valentine's Day in the respect that what we celebrate on these holidays (love and being thankful) are what we should live every day, but I still think they are days worthy of setting aside some extra love and thanks!  Being away from family is hard on holidays, but for this one I was home. 

The Thanksgiving day started like any other Thursday.  Christina and I got groceries for our big dinner in the morning and then we headed to Enjabulweni to collect letters and deliver grade 7's letters.  Of course the other students hadn't written letters back yet, and when I delivered grade 7's letters, I realized I was about 20 letters short.  The names the head teacher had given me were only half of the students in his class! Eish!  But, like loaves in fishes, we multiplied letters by changing names of some that were doubles (because originally my students outnumbered the ones at Enjabulweni).  The students' faces were so priceless, seriously.  They way they held the envelopes and letters so tenderly made it look like they were holding treasure.  In fact, many of the students call them “love letters.” 

After Enjabulweni I took Tenele and Ayanda on a long walk up to the local prison (remand center) where Cedric was staying.  Apparently, Cedric had been selling cell phones and one customer wouldn't pay him properly so Cedric took the phone back.  The customer called the police and they arrested Cedric for stealing.  Of course, that's the story I got from Tenele's angle, so I don't really know the full story.  Anyway, we went to visit him and brought baby Lucia, his daughter, with.  When she looked at him and heard his voice, she lit up with her gorgeous toothy grin.  After a little while she kept crying and Cedric tenderly said, “Lucia, don't cry.  Daddy's coming.  Don't cry.”  Upon hearing his voice again, she calmed down a little.  Clearly, she recognizes and loves her daddy and he cares for her, too.  He has made the trip out once to visit Tenele's homestead where she stays with her real mother and sisters.  It's great that Cedric is making the effort to stay connected and involved in his daughter's life.  I know being in prison doesn't give a very good picture of Cedric, but I really believe he is also starting to become a changed man.  Tenele snuck in to see Cedric with me, because she actually can't see him without an ID; but the policeman inside the cell building was kind and let Tenele stay with us.  

We said our goodbyes and Cedric gave his appreciation and we started the walk back into town.  I was exhausted at this point but excited to cook a feast!  Christina and I were about to embark on a journey we had never taken before: cooking a turkey!  We bought a beast of a turkey at the grocery store to feed the ten plus people for dinner that night.  It was a wonderful three hours of cooking; yes, wonderful!  Ayanda also helped us in the kitchen, as we created the feast of turkey, cheesy mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, stuffing, corn, and puppy chow!  The greatest reward was sitting at the long table with all of our guests (including Betty, Mzie, Ryan, Majabani, a few others, and of course Tenele, Ayanda, and baby Lucia!) and hearing their surprised complements of how wonderful the food tasted.  I was shocked myself at how delicious the turkey tasted!

As I sat at that table I couldn't help but laugh with amazement at God's goodness of those surrounding me, especially 1) Christina and 2) my kids. 

1)                  Christina amazes me; her utter devotion to God and her spirit of abandonment in following him to Swazi, sacrificing more than I could begin to write, is overwhelmingly inspiring.  She is adored by her housemates, her coworkers, the MYC boys, our kids, her family, and of course me!  What a blessing to be able to be in Swaziland to celebrate a day of thanks for her, to give her a taste of home, and support her in all the incredible work she is doing!  Y'all should follow her year in Swazi at: www.christinahealingheart.blogspot.com.

2)                  The time I've had with my kids so far feels like I never left them.  Though Lucia was afraid of me initially, she finally warmed up to me.  When she cries, I pick her up and sing her our song (Siyahamba “We are walking in the light of God”) and she literally stops crying every time.  It's crazy!  Even today, she was getting really fussy, so I simply put her on my hip and hummed around the kitchen as we cooked the turkey and other food.  She was seemingly at home on my hip. :)

It amazes me that God has put these special young ones in my life, not for me to change their lives but for them to change mine.  I have learned so much about myself through them.  They cry and hurt when I am gone, but they don't know that I can't live without them.  The longer I stay away from them, the more the breath inside of me slowly drains.  The way that God has renewed Tenele is still like a dream to me; I see a miracle every time I look at her and the way she tenderly cares for her baby girl.  They are wise and they make me a better person; they challenge me and they read me like a book.  Ayanda simply reads my facial expressions and knows exactly what I'm thinking; it's almost too spot on!  In the car ride the other day, Johannes, Ayanda, Christina, and I were talking about trust in relations to specific experiences in our lives.  I told them I wouldn't be able to be in a relationship if I didn't trust the person, and to make a long story short and keep the conversation confidential, basically Ayanda blurted out, “Mary-Kate, you are in a dilema.” “What?” I said surprised.  “Someone broke your trust and you're putting up a wall; you say you don't trust this person, but you trusted _____ with *this.  You can't go with your mind even if your heart is hurt.”   Johannes proceeded to claim Ayanda as the winner of what turned into an argument about whether or not you could/should be in a relationship with someone you can't trust.  Needless to say, I learn something from them every day, and I could not have asked the Lord for a bigger blessing than these sweet ones he has given me!

With a thankful heart!

Longest Week: Day Two and Three

Monday morning started with a lovely reunion at Enjabulweni!  I went to deliver letters that my students back the in States had written to their pen pals.  Unfortunately, it was actually the worst week for me to try to deliver letters because the students are writing exams this week, which means they don't actually have class.  So, it was quite a mess trying to deliver letters to the students, but the looks on their faces and the excited exchange of letters among themselves was so priceless.  They especially loved seeing pictures that the students sent them.  They passed pictures back and forth to one another and read their letters over and over again.  What a priceless gift!

After Enjabulweni, Christina and I eagerly stopped for our date at Baker's Corner and indulged in consuming some donuts. After our absolutely necessary pit stop, we swung by the house and picked up Ryan to head to the girls' home.  The progress of renovations was actually much further than I had thought, but there is still SO much work to do!  It was so great to see the difference, though, and the best part was looking at all the land!  The land we have at the house is massive!  We are going to have gardens upon gardens of room for growing food.  Even without the garden, we have food already growing on our land: a mango tree, a papaya tree, an orange tree, and a grape vine!  Incredible!

After the girls home trip, Tenele and Baby Lucia came to the house, and I took her to the clinic.  She was quite malnourished when I first saw her and wouldn't even smile.  She had a large head for her thin, frail shoulders and body.  But after the clinic visit, we went to the grocery store and got some food and nourished her back up to health.  By the next day, she was a completely new baby!  She was smiling and giggling nonstop and cuddling up to her mommy.  It was SO precious.  And her cute little baby teeth are just darling!

On Tuesday, Christina and I met with Laurence, the maintenance man who is overseeing the work on the girls home, and we set up a plan for the week.  I interviewed Christina for Hosea's Heart promotional videos, and I met with Lungile, who is a past student of mine.  Lungile stole my heart from the beginning of the year when I taught at Enjabulweni.  She is extremely smart and a dedicated worker. She could do BIG things with her life; unfortunately, she has been out of school for the past year because she cannot afford to pay for it.  In fact, when I saw her this summer, my heart broke because she looked like the life had been sucked out of her...and it had.  She had a black eye and refused to tell me how she got it.  I prodded her when I met with her on Tuesday; yet, she remained very locked up, which is not like her at all.  She agreed to do an interview for us, and she told the camera about her life.  "Life is difficult without parents..." she started, and gazed off into the distance with dreary eyes.  She began to cry.  "I don't have hope," she managed to say.  It was absolutely shattering to hear her say that--to hear it come from the mouth that told me "Mary-Kate, since you come to teach me English, I seen a lot of changes. You bring hope to everyone."  I reminded her that it's not me who has the hope to give, but I just have the message to share!  And that she still can have hope, even though she doesn't feel it now.  I want to find a way to pay for her school fees and get her back into school starting in January... Anybody want to sponsor her? And let her know SHE CAN HAVE HOPE!

The Start of the Longest Week of my Life: Day 1

Before leaving for my very short trip to Swaziland, I prayed that God would make this the longest week of my life. It has been three full days and it already feels like a week has passed with everything that has been packed in so far! Yebo Jesu!

I left for Swazi on a Thursday evening flight from Chicago to Germany. During the eight hour flight, I sat next to a nice man around my age who was traveling to Chicago for his brother's wedding. He was kind and even offered his shoulder for me to sleep on after I kept rustling back and forth trying to find a workable condition to attempt to get some zs. The only problem with the young man was that he had caught a cold from someone on a previous flight the day before. He was constantly sniffling and coughing on and off. I hoped I wouldn't catch his cold, but after the eight hour flight, as soon as I stepped into the Frankfurt airport, my nose started running. I had thirteen hours to kill, yes it was THIRTEEN hour layover, so I found a nice corner by some windows that had a little work table (so I could correct all my students' papers to pass the day). Within minutes of nestling into my spot, my runny nose cost me my last package of kleenex, so I resulted to “borrowing” a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom. Starting to feel quite miserable, I prayed, “Lord, please don't let me have this cold on the plane ride; that's the worst place to be sick.” Throughout the day I drank lots of liquids and used the airborne tablet. Ten hours and a toilet paper roll later, I was bustling up my luggage and heading to my gate sniffle free!

The twelve hour flight from Frankfurt to Johannesburg was the best plane ride I've ever had! For the first time in numerous travels, I slept for the majority of the ride! The Lufthansa plane seats were fantastic, and I arrived in Johannesburg feeling exhilarated and excited! I took a shuttle bus five hours to Swazi and finally found home! Upon hearing the rolling wheels of my luggage, Christina Hostetter lept from her balcony seat of the volunteer house, ran down the stairs, and embraced me with the best welcome home hug ever! I knew with her embrace this is exactly where I was meant to be.

My first full day in Swaziland was Sunday. After church in the morning, Christina and I swung by Mangwaneni to pick up Ayanda, Johannes, and Pununu to take them with us to visit Tenele's homestead. It was an incredible forty minute drive with Christina and I in the front and our kids chattering excitedly in the back.

When Tenele, baby MK, and Tenele's mother met us on the dirt road to take us to their homestead, I wasn't sure my heart could be any fuller. Little Lucia had teeth! And Tenele looked so happy, as did her mother. Tenele's mother cannot speak English, so much of our converstaion is through smiles and embraces. Once at the homestead, Tenele introduced her other two sisters and their babies as well. It was a full house, and although the land looked promising with growing vegetables, the living conditions weren't great. Throughout our conversation, Christina and I politely swatted away the swarming amount of flies in the room. Lucia looked very thin, and I was worried about her.  Her head looked oversized compared to her thin and somewhat bony body structure.  Tenele told me she had been sick, and it looked like it was more than just being sick, so I told Tenele to meet me the following day in town and I'd take them to the clinic to check on Lucia.

Later that afternoon, Johannes and Ayanda came over to visit.  My lovely students back in the states had decided to sign and send a soccer ball for Johannes as a get well gesture after I had told them about Johannes' heart condition.  So, I presented the ball to Johannes and his reaction was unexpected.  One of hte biggest smiles I have EVER seen from him spread across his face as his eyes light up the room.  He held the ball tenderly and gave me a big, long hug saying, "I've dreamed of having a soccer ball of my own."  How incredibly humbling to have a young man so appreciative of something so seemingly small.  He tossed the ball around and looked and each and every name of the students who signed it, asking for me to pronounce the names for him.  Another student of mine had donate a bunch of clothes, so Johannes tried on a few and loved the shirts so much he started to model them for the camera.  

The first full day of Swazi closed with a trip to the grocery store with Christina and a joint effort in making the best chili I've had!  

Wow, what a trip and it's only day one!  The time I spent with Christina and my children is already worth the travel and cost of being here.  God truly is making this the longest week of my life. 

To be continued...

Wholly Broken

Wholly Broken

People often wonder if I left my heart in Swazi, why don’t I go get it?  Why don’t I move there?  Why don’t I live there if I miss it that much?  Sometimes I don’t know the answer to that; many times I wish I did live in Swazi; sometimes I think about moving the next chance I can.  I bury myself with my job here and busy myself with life so that the pang of separation from loved ones and desperate sting of longing to hold my children would go away.  But it never does.  The wound will never be healed; my heart will never be whole because I live in two worlds—two worlds starkly different from each other, two worlds that can’t possible coexist together, two worlds that hold two halves of my very soul, two worlds that will never mend a broken heart.  So the real question is, which world would I rather live in?

My heart leaps at the answer, “Swazi” but there’s a gentle voice inside my being that stings, “stay.”  The choice is daunting, and the longer I stay the more I burn.  Sometimes it feels like self-infliction.  How can I possibly live like this much longer?  How can I embrace life with an injured wing?  How can I stand in front of a room full of my high school students with my Mimio board and all the technology I want at my fingertips, yet ache so passionately to be standing in front of that hot, colorless, boxed in room with a piece of chalk and a blackboard, teaching students who giggle at my accent?  All the technology in the world means nothing next to teaching a 14 year old prostitute the ABCs.  All the parent teacher conferences and staff appreciation mean nothing next to a fatherless teenage girl who thanks me for giving “hope to everyone.”  All the money I get in my lofty teacher salary means nothing next to paying for a bright young lady’s education when she had been kicked out of school for being pregnant, though she had been raped.  All of the comforts of family and friends being a phone call away mean nothing next to holding a baby that has been nick-named in my honor.  So if my all is in Swazi, why is not all of me there?

As I stand in front of my American students, I look into their eyes—no, I search their eyes, and I find my answer.  Are these two worlds really that vastly different from each other?  The eyes of my students say, “look deeper, look beyond your pain, and look at mine.”  The worlds are unquestionably contrasting, but the need for love and hope in both worlds are in fact one and the same.  I need look no further than the young faces before me to see that they ache for the same things my Swazi children ache for: to be noticed, to be wanted, to be loved.  My American students’ eyes hold my answer, their eyes hold my purpose, their eyes hold my broken heart.  Some smile and joke and laugh to cover the scars; some never try because they’ve been told they’ll never be good enough; some are loud and obnoxious, overriding the sting of feeling forgotten; some are quiet and reserved, never volunteering an answer in fear of their classmates’ laughter; and all, all of them come with a wound or more that still needs healing.  Some wounds are physical, the scars of bloodied arms from a razor, the scars of self-infliction, the scars that say physical pain is better than emotional damage.  Other wounds are invisible, unless you search their eyes.  Some eyes tell of untold horrors, of abuse she has witnessed, of abuse she has endured.  Some eyes are dry from the waterfall of tears that soak his pillow at night because he can’t cry in front of anyone else.  Some eyes search mine, begging me to see what they don’t want to say.  And when their eyes can’t say it any longer, the brave ones put it on paper.  Their writing moves me, breaks me, consoles me, and shows me I do have purpose here.  They show me that their hunger is more than bread and butter, it’s for truth and love.  They show me that they aren’t so different than the ones I desperately love in Swaziland; they give me a reason to stay when my heart groans, “go.” 

Maybe these worlds aren’t so vastly different from each other after all.  I was a vessel of hope for my students in Swazi; I am a vessel for healing in students’ hearts here; I was a mother to many children in Swazi, and I am tenderly nicknamed “Mama Kate” here.  Yes, my heart is split between two different worlds, but I am a teacher, a mother, and a lover all the same.   And maybe that’s the whole point.  My purpose here is not to be whole, my heart is not meant to be mine; I am called to fulfill His purpose for His people everywhere, and He means everywhere.  Therefore, I glory in my brokenness and put my heart in my heavenly home, because only then and only He can make me whole.  

Patience Pays Off

Patience is more than a virtue...it's like money in a bank.

After leaving "home" (Swazi) to come "home" (Wisconsin), I couldn't bare the thought of not seeing my children for an entire year, especially when my baby girl is going to grow up way too fast in a simple twelve months!  So, I fervently tried looking up plane tickets over my Christmas break.  Site upon site gave me the same bad news: booking a flight around Christmas is impossible for my current bank account.  Eish.  I couldn't foot a $3,000 plane ticket or anything close to that; yet, I was willing to try any way I could to see my kids again.

"Okay, Lord," I started praying, "if you want me there, you gotta get me there some how some way.  I need a miracle."

The more I looked into plane tickets and options to go, the more discouraged I became.  I also discovered that if I were to somehow miraculously come up with the money to make it to Swazi over break, I'd miss three basketball games that I'm supposed to be coaching.  "That's not gonna fly," I thought.  Still, I couldn't rest.  My heart was burdened and my mind was all over the place trying to come up with options of how to get to Swazi.  One day, while I was praying about it, a thought popped into my head about going over during Thanksgiving break.

"Ha!" I laughed aloud. "What a ridiculous thought!"  I rationed that not only is November much closer than December but that also means that it'd be more expensive and I also would have to take off a great number of work days in order to make that possible.  With no other options, I decided to punch it into Google and see what flight options come up.  I nearly fell off my seat when I encountered a plane ticket for $1,200.  That's less than half of what the Christmas ticket would have been!  I was shocked, excited, thrilled, and scared all at the same time.  "This is actually possible!" I exclaimed.  Now, $1200 is still a great deal of money that I wasn't going to use lightly but it was the cheapest plane ticket to Swazi I had EVER seen!  Now that it was possible I wondered if it was plausible.  "Should I really go?  Is it worth it?"  I would only be able to stay for about a week, and a quick trip like that would be over before I said hello.  Would it hurt me more in the end to have to leave after such a short amount of time?

I had been corresponding with Christina when I was trying to look up a Christmas break ticket and had broken the news to her that it probably wouldn't work because I couldn't afford it.  She sweetly responded that no matter how short of a visit both she and my kids would be more than blessed if I came but that she understood I had to do what's best for me.  Could what's best for me also be what's best for them?

Yes, indeed.  After talking over the options with my wise and supportive mother, she wasn't so keen on the idea at first but the more we talked the more excited she got and the more affirmative she became of taking this opportunity.  She expanded my thinking to contemplate and plan for two trips a year.  As the founder of an organization, she reminded me that I need to think of what's best for the org (Hosea's Heart), too.  She talked about other orgs who send their founders/executive directors over numerous times a year and suggested I start planning for something like that.  Brilliant!  Though I can't rationalize HHeart supporting my trip this time because we are still in unstable raising funds stages, I still felt empowered to take this opportunity while I had it.

I sat down at the computer ready to book a ticket but a quiet voice told me to wait.

Wait.

That's it.  Just wait.  "What?  What do you mean 'wait'?!  I can't wait.  The ticket prices will go up if I wait!  I have to get it now."

Just wait.  One day.  Wait.

"Fine," I closed my computer, not knowing why I was waiting.  The next morning I sat in church trying really hard to concentrate but all I could think about was that looming ticket I needed to book.  I shook myself back into the homily and then quickly prayed, "Lord, I don't know why I'm waiting, but just bless it.  Bless the wait, bless the ticket more than you already have!"

When I got home later that day I went straight to my computer to find the ticket.  It wasn't there.

What was there was a blessing with my name on it.

I booked a ticket that afternoon to Swaziland, Africa for a miraculous $986!  I have NEVER in my four years of going to Swazi EVER seen a ticket like that... EVER!  Praise the Lord!  Praise God for the wait!

Patience truly "pays" off!

After I booked the ticket, I realized how incredible this situation really is: 1) I get to refresh Christina who is living on her own for the year taking on the burdens of not only the social welfare office of boys homes but creating the girls home, too, AND I get to bring her THANKS for her GIVING over Thanksgiving!
2) I won't miss a single game of coaching basketball!
3) I only have to take off a few days of work because for "some" reason we have a three day T-giving break instead of a two-day like usual.
4) I get to bring supplies and clothes for the girls home and check up on the progress.  I get to bring back pictures and videos of the progress of the home to give to donors so we can keep raising funds to build the home.
5) I get to hand deliver pen pal letters that my students here will write to the Swazi students and I get to bring return letters back with me.
6) I get to celebrate Baby MK's FIRST BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!  Yebo Jesu!

Seriously, how great is our God?  I don't deserve His faithful goodness, and yet that's the beauty of his grace.

Patience is more than a virtue...it's a ticket to Swazi and back again.

Simply YOU is Enough

"Esther, just as she was, won the admiration of everyone who saw her."  -Esther 2:15

  One of the best birthday gifts I recently received was a letter from my dear friend Rachael.  In her letter she shared some insight she recently gained while reading through the book of Esther.  She writes, "It's a simple message but one every woman needs to hear multiple times."  She then proceeded to make parallels about the characteristics she sees in me and those of Esther and she comments, "But out of all of that I think the most amazing thing about Esther is that she was completely herself and she won the admiration of every person in the palace, including the king!"

JUST AS SHE WAS...

If you're not familiar with the Esther story, she saved an entire race of people by risking her own life, placing her life/death sentence in that hands of the king.  Prior to saving this race, Esther had been brought to the king as one of the women the king might choose to be his next queen.  Out of all the hundreds of women, who bedazzled themselves in the finest of jewelry before the presence of the king, Esther won his admiration by simply being her.  Amazing, right?  We constantly change ourselves or better ourselves to please others, doing things to win the admiration of those around us.  But DOING meant nothing; it was BEING that graced Esther with the opportunity to be queen, which enabled her to save a race of humanity.

This letter was such a beautiful reminder that I don't have to "fix up" myself for others or work to impress people.  In the struggles I've had through my singleness, many times I've wondered, "What am I doing wrong?" or "What's wrong with me?"  In the times that I've tried to purposely impress others, I usually come up empty handed or disappointed, wondering what I'm not doing right.  But looking back at the times when I've been completely myself--covered in dirt and sweat working at a Bible camp, dancing like a fool in the rain, unleashing my ghettoness in a variety of ways, or scooping up some kids in my arms--that's when I've been noticed, just being me.

Like Rachael said, it is truly a message we ALL need to hear countless times.  "Just be you" is a seemingly overused phrase that may have lost some of its meaning.  But you don't need to look any further than Esther herself to realize that this is a life-changer.  Rachael summarizes her point with this: "Esther accomplished so much while being queen, but the thing that won her admiration from everyone was simply, her."

So I pass along this message to you.

Simply YOU is enough. 

My Teacher is a 16 Year Old

Isn't it amazing that the people we think we're teaching or helping are usually the ones changing, reforming, and refining us?  16 year old Ayanda never ceases to amaze me.  She is wise beyond years, tender beyond her tears, and firm in the face of fears.  I have learned more from Ayanda in the past two years than I have ever taught anyone else.  She might still call me "Mama" but I'll have to start calling her "Teacha!", especially after the conversation we just had...

I just got done having an hour long phone conversation with this brilliant Swazi girl, who made me laugh more in the course of one conversation than I have for the past two weeks!  Before I explain what exactly we talked about during this conversation that was so incredible, I'll have to let you in on some hidden parts of my heart. 

When I was in Swazi for those nine months in 2010-2011, I experienced some of the most lonely and dangerous times of my life; however, some of that was expected being in a foreign country on my own.  But, when I feel that same stinging loneliness in my own country, in my own city, in my own job, in my own home, in my own heart, that's not expected and that makes it more painful.  "Lord, if I'm feeling this lonely being here, why don't I just go to Swazi and stay there?" I journaled one night.  I know the answer; I know I'm supposed to be here bearing the cross of living in two different worlds and loving two different families.  

But as I've been preparing for my students and classes that start in a few days, I've realized I'm addicted to the work.  I bury myself at school in the piles of work all day all week not just because it needs to be done but because it makes me feel like I have a purpose, it makes me feel less lonely... that is, until I realize working that much actually doesn't improve my social life at all.  I feel like I'm stuck in an awkward stage of life; I'm just beginning my professional career, so in that respect I'm young.  But I'm also a soon-to-be 26 year old single woman whose social circles have for the most part moved on in different directions post college, and in that respect I feel old.  Society says I should have already met my prince charming (most likely in college), should be married, or at least on the road to engagement, and having kids soon.  I'm far from what society says, and though I know I'm not meant to conform to the ways of the world, I can't help but feel the pressure to find a soul mate, and because that hasn't happened yet it makes me feel even more empty or unworthy.  I could go on and on about that struggle, which always is a cycle; some days I think I could be single for the rest of my life knowing that's how I could glorify God best, other days I cry out in frustration telling God, "It's not fair." Up until today, I was on the lower end of the cycle for longer than I thought.

"Hah? Mama?!" Ayanda squealed in delight as she recognized my voice.  I squealed in return because I had called Ayanda on a whim, thinking it wouldn't connect because she rarely has the cell phone on.  "Mama, we miss you too much."  My heart sank and smiled at the same time.  After an exchange of greetings and mutual excitement, Ayanda talked and talked and talked.  She said so many incredible, funny, silly, inspiring things I started writing some of them down.  Keep in mind, she has no idea what I've been struggling with as she launches into a spiel about how she loves me: "You are an open person.  You don't keep secrets.  You tell us what's your heart.  You cry in front of us."

"A person who smiles all the time cries a lot.  For me... I laugh a lot.  But when it's time to cry, I cry a lot."

Ayanda, Johannes, Tenele, and Baby MK

Then she directed the conversation to when we departed them at the end of July.  "You were all crying when you hugged us goodbye... When you were gone, Johannes and I walked back to meet Tenele and Johannes started crying.  I laughed at first because I thought he was a man, and men don't cry.  But then he cried so hard he made Tenele and I cry even harder." 

Then she moved the conversation to why she had been crying earlier that day.  The Reed Dance (a cultural tradition where thousands and thousands of women and girls come to dance before the King where he would choose another wife [though the king doesn't choose one like in the traditional past, it is still like a rite of passage for all Swazi girls]) has started and Ayanda couldn't go because she didn't have money.  All of her family and friends had left her for the Reed Dance so she was feeling sad and alone.  "But I have to laugh a lot like right now with you, because I can't be sad for a long time," she said before she started talking about the Swazi culture of a man marrying multiple wives.  

"Can you marry a man who has five wives?" she asked me.

"No," I laughed.  "No way. Can you?"

"No.  I'd rather be alone. That's why I want to be a lawyer.  I will make money so I can live alone.  Maybe I can adopt kids.  But I can't marry a man that has more wives.  I would have a jealous!  I can't share my husband."

And if this conversation wasn't enough, she boldly states:  "Mama, I think you're going to get married... because I want a dad!"  A tear of joy clouded my vision for a brief moment.  She said exactly what my heart has been yearning for.  Every time I think about my future and whether or not God is calling me to a life of singleness or a life of marriage, I can't get past the fact that these kids (my kids everywhere) need a father, not just a mother.  More than ever, the Swazi girls need to see a man love his wife and love his kids.  During this past July, Ayanda said she didn't want a husband because they beat too much, and because "husbands are a headache every day."  More than anything, this world needs more examples of what marriage is meant to be, as with Christ and his bride, the Church.  

I laughed and told her I would love that more than anything.  Then I started spilling my heart about loneliness and struggles, to which she adamantly responded:  

"I know God will give you a perfect husband."

I laughed again...until she continued:  "Do you remember last time in Bible club when you taught us love is patient, love is kind?…I think you will have a husband who will be kind and patient.  Hey, don’t forget that verse because you teach us that verse and I won’t forget so you either. Promise?"

Through choked up words, I managed to say, "Yes, I promise."

"I love that verse.  It always makes my heart feel better.  I always start with that verse.  

So don't worry...you have to be patient."

It took a 16 year old to finally get God's message through to me.  BE PATIENT.  Because LOVE IS PATIENT!  It was like God said to me, "Hey, sweetheart, you can preach it all you want, but if you don't believe it what good is that?" So he used Ayanda, who had been a "student" during Bible Club lessons in 2011, to teach me what I needed to hear, to believe, and to live out.

"But, Mom, I need a good man, okay?  One who will say, 'Yeah, let's go to Swazi together,' not one who will just let you go alone."  

As if this conversation wasn't incredible enough, before we hung up she left me with this:

"But don't worry...sooner or later you will have your husband...and my daddy!"

Ayanda's hands forming a heart against the Swazi sunset makes the image of Hosea's Heart, Inc. 

In my Absence is His Presence

A few years ago, I wrote a poem as my mission prayer for Swazi:

Not my Love to Give

I have learned what it is to love deeply from the heart.

But I have learned that it is not my love to give; it’s Yours.

So, let me love so boldly, believe so fiercely,

fight so selflessly, hurt so deeply,

serve so humbly, surrender so wholly,

and forgive so endlessly that I completely disappear 

and ALL they see is you, Jesus.

May they not remember me, but remember Your love.

I didn't realize it then, but this prayer has transformed my life in Swazi, which is why it forever holds my heart. The most beautiful part of the miracle of Tenele's life is that it is not about me or what I did.  In fact, if it were about me and her renewed life depended on me, then she wouldn't be where she is today because I could never be enough or do enough.  That's all part of being human.  That's why Paul praises and celebrates weakness and struggle (2 Corinthians 12:8-10) because where our strength ends is where God's truly begins!  There is no better example of this than Tenele herself.  

It seems all of the best things happen while I'm gone, which on the one hand is a little disappointing not being there but on the other it's incredible because it proves God's strength through my weakness (absence).  That way no one can say, "That's all you, Kate! Good job!" with a pat on the back.  It's not me because I'm not there!  So, as painful as it is to be away, I know it's how God will be glorified.  If you've read my previous blogs, you'll notice the complete transformation of Tenele from when I left her in 2011 and when I returned this June 2012!  In my absence, God continued to pursue Tenele and Tenele came back to the Lord!  Now most recently in my absence, Tenele was placed HOME!  

The day after I returned home to the states, Christina Hostetter (our long term volunteer who has sacrificed a year of her life to serve in Swazi) drove Tenele to her home where she was reunited with her real mother.  In her blog post, Christina commented: 

"On Tuesday, I had the privilege to take her [Tenele] home! It was beautiful thing to see how happy and joyful she was to be home and to see her mother's face light up when she saw her and her granddaughter. It made my day!"

Knowing Tenele is safe at home is an incredible feeling; at the same time, I know how hard it is going to be for her to STAY at home.  My mission while I'm away is to pray, so the more who join me in this the better! Pray for her security at home and her protection from evil and temptation to return to the life of sin and destruction that she just left. 

                                        Tenele with her mother and sister at her homestead

Another incredible event that is currently happening in my absence is HOPE FOR LIFE!

Thanks to Christina and the MYC committee, plans for the girls home are set in action!  Litsemba Lemphilo, Hope for Life, will house a total of 16 abused and at-risk girls with a "respite" room for emergency placements.  With a little chunk of money thanks to donors from England, stage one of renovation on the home has commenced!  Woooo Hooooo!  Christina reports that the deadline for this is one month.  Once the renovations get in full swing, Hosea's Heart will continual fund/support the entire renovation process as well as raise funds to fill and run the home for an entire year.  The entire cost of renovations and running the home (which includes electricity, food, salary for the house mothers, school fees, etc.) is estimated at ONLY $30,000!  This is a financial goal I know we can reach in one year.  So please join us and donate to the necessity of resurrecting Hope for Life home.  

Visit: www.hoseasheart.org to donate online or for more information!

*To follow Christina and her adventures for this next year in Swazi, go to:http://christinahealingheart.blogspot.com/

Where is Home?

It's only been eight days since I've left Swazi, and it already feels like months!  It somehow gets harder and harder to leave each time I go.  For my fourth "transition" back to American culture, you'd think by now I'd be accustomed to the dramatic changes; however, there are some parts of culture that still disgust me, mostly because it's so easy for me to fall right back into it.  For example, the simple ideal in Swazi where people come first.  They are a very "hospitable" people, particularly to visitors; whereas here we are a VERY self-centered people.  Now, you may be thinking, "Oh, not me. I do value people!"  You may think you do...but do you truly value them over yourself?  More importantly...do you value them over your precious time?

I'm talking about showing up two hours late to something because you ran into an old friend who really needed to talk.  Or dropping your plans for an entire DAY to help someone in need.  Or putting away your Ipod so you can talk to the person next to you.  Or...
It's something as simple as needing a place to sleep for one night. I had called up some friends looking for a couch to crash on while passing through town. The initial responses actually aggravated me.  Excuse after excuse of being too busy or that it just "won't work out" really shocked me, and then I remembered I was back in America, where time and convenience are idols in our daily lives that we never take time to acknowledge.  Think about that...

In America TIME and CONVENIENCE are idols that supersede people.  

And after you're out of that attitude for awhile, you realize how repulsive those idols are.
It may seem trivial to some, but it's just one small example of something that happens daily that proves this self-centered attitude we as Americans are so ingrained that we hardly notice it...until you go to a country like Swaziland and realize that there are entire countries of people who not just say but live like people (NOT time nor convenience) are of importance.  That's why Swazi feels like home to every visitor who comes.  Because you are treated as such.  I'm not saying Swazi is perfect; you can clearly see the heartbreak of the country in my blogs, but it is definitely something that sets them apart.  And I'm not hatin' on "Amurrica" either; obviously, I love my country and thank the Lord I've been raised in a blessed country with so many perks.  I am saying that it is FRUSTRATING to come back to a culture like this, knowing that it's just a matter of time until I warp back into that same mindset that I hate.

Aside from the cultural differences and the obvious material world ridiculousness, the hardest part of being back home is that I don't feel "home."  And that's a terrible feeling to be around people who love and support me at home but I don't feel at home, though I wish more than anything that I would.  Sometimes I wish I could forget Swazi and pretend it's all just a dream like it sometimes feels, because it would be SO MUCH EASIER.  But when there's a 16 year old girl with an 8 month baby girl who are still holding pieces of my heart, that's not something I can just pretend doesn't exist; it's not something I can forget...ever.

It's hard to tell people about Swaziland because there's a lot of pain involved that not a single person can truly understand because there hasn't been a single person who has been consistently with me through it all. So, (I don't admit this proudly because it's not at all what I should do, but I'm just being honest) I avoid the topic.  When people ask about Swazi, I answer simply and quickly change the subject.  Most people don't even notice, which I guess proves why I don't talk about it much.  But I think the reason I avoid it is because I know they can't comfort me.  I get frustrated when people don't understand (even when they try) and it's not fair for me to be frustrated at them.  So I was feeling pretty depressed about being home until a conversation I had yesterday...

Prompted by the Spirit to swing by church just to pray quickly before I went to work in my classroom, I stopped by Newman thinking I'd be in and out.  Just as I knelt to pray, Fr. James, the new pastor, walked through the sanctuary.  Feeling like I should introduce myself, I greeted him and he invited me to chat.  My "quick" visit turned into an hour and half conversation that was the best comfort I've received!  After patiently and attentively listening to me spill my heart out about the Swazi mission and my children, he said,

"I can only imagine your pain right now.  This is not your home."  

I had only briefly mentioned my difficult time leaving Swazi and hadn't said a single word about not feeling at "home", but he could already sense there was something much deeper than what I was communicating.  It was the best thing to just HEAR someone understand me!  I didn't have to say anything else because he understood I'm in pain being away from the children who have my heart.  He understood I was trying to pretend I'm happy about being home, and he called me out on it.  "How can I help you through this?" he asked.  Even better, "What can we, as a parish, do to help with Hosea's Heart?"  What a blessing!  He felt the pain with me and wanted to do something about it.

 I just needed someone to notice my pain, let me grieve, understand that I'm going through a loss, and offer to help me through it.

In that moment, I found home.  

Our Plans are not His Plans (for a Reason)

From the beginning of this trip I've been trying to figure out plans for Tenele to move out of Mangwaneni.  She was the first to approach me and tell me she wanted to leave.  After my initial surprise, I began going through all the options I could think of as to where Tenele could stay.  I began feeling a little discouraged but during one of my quiet times, I felt the Lord calling me to action -- now or never.  So I went to work on contacting people and coming up with my own plans for where to place Tenele and how  to do so safely.  I also wanted to make sure Tenele really wanted to leave, because it is going to be a hard transition out of that Mangwaneni life for her.

After no luck finding other places for her to stay or people for her to stay with, my brilliant plan was this: when our team leaves, Christina could stay in the volunteer house and Tenele could come live with here there!  Titi even agreed to help out and live with the two of them.  It could be a temporary "girls home" as we wait for the renovation of the other girls home to begin.  It was all so brilliant in my head until I proposed the idea to MYC.  Winile listened patiently at my idea and gently told me it wouldn't work because, among other reasons, the house is strictly for volunteers.  But she also offered advice of getting the MYC social welfare office involved with Tenele and doing a home visit to find out more information about her background and see if there are any relatives in the area she could stay with. As we left that meeting, Christina nonchalantly commented, "Well, our plans are not always God's plans."  She could not be more correct!

Fortunately, I've been able to spend immense amounts of time with umtfwana wami this trip!  In fact, we've even had two sleepovers!  During all this time with Tenele it is so evident that her baby girl has had a huge impact on Tenele's change of heart.  She loves her so much and baby MK (Lucia) loves her, too.  With all this time together I've been able to experience a side of Tenele that I have been praying for for three years now!  It is clear that the last step of Tenele's life change is to get her out of her living situation, out of Mangwaneni.  Tenele told me about her real mother and that she wants to meet me.  So I arranged with Alban, the MYC social worker, to do a home visit with Tenele.  He eagerly jumped at the opportunity to help and even took me to Mangwaneni to find Cedric so we could talk to him about moving Tenele.  Alban was very clear that it is important we get Cedric's "permission" otherwise it could turn in to a messy situation if Cedric wants to go looking for Tenele and the baby later.  I was so blessed by Alban's eagerness to help when it wasn't even his job.  The meeting with Cedric was wonderful.  He was very shy in front of Alban, but he agreed it would be good for Tenele to leave Mangwaneni.  We also invited him to join us for the home visit, but he kindly declined with a "maybe."

After we arranged for a specific day for the home visit, Tenele said her mother wasn't at home so we had to wait another day.  When this happened one more time, I started thinking this whole home visit ordeal was not going to work.  God is so good!  He lavished me with surprises this trip, and the home visit was the best one by far!  Finally, on Wednesday of this past week, Christina and I took Tenele to her home in Malindza (with the gracious MYC driver Mateo).  Her home is in the middle of nowhere, but the land surrounding it was beautiful.  Her mother greeted us with joyful smiles, as she couldn't speak or understand any English.  Luckily, her step-father was there, so we were able to translate through him.

Christina and I had never done a "home visit" before so we didn't know how in the world to even begin, but we had some paperwork with us, so we just went with it.  The step father, Moses, filled out the paper work as we visited with them and we learned more about Tenele's life.  They said Tenele is the youngest of the family and they sent her to live with her "aunite" (which was really just a friend of the mother's) because of poverty in the house.  Moses told us how they had an "agreement" with the auntie to raise Tenele and take her to school.  Moses then said, "But she didn't hold up her end of the agreement.  Tenele didn't have a good life."  I was shocked that he acknowledged that to our faces.  Then he proceeded to say that they tried to call Tenele back home but she refused because she was already living with Cedric at this point.  So through both sides of the story, I was able to piece together a lot more of Tenele's life:
In 2008, (shortly after I first met Tenele), a friend told her that the "mother" she was staying with was not her real mother.  Not wanting to endure the abuse anymore, Tenele left to find her real mother.  When she found her, however, the stepfather (Moses) didn't want Tenele, so they sent her away.  That's when she went to teh streets and lived as a prostitute for almost three years before she starting living with Cedric.  By that time, the parents had figured out what had happened to Tenele and had called her back home, but Tenele was already hurt by them and too far into prostitution and the live she lived that going back home wasn't an option.

After learning all of this, I still didn't think Tenele living back at home was an option.  But when I asked Moses repeatedly if there were any other relatives or friends or people we could trust to help Tenele find a place to live, he finally said, "Well, she can live here."

"What?" I asked him to repeat what he said, not thinking those words were possible.
"Yah, she can stay here with us."
"Really?"  I was quite shocked by his assured declaration, so I asked him if he was sure.  He began explaining as long as Tenele WANTED to come home and was going to leave the life with Cedric behind, she is welcome to come home.
I called Tenele back into the room so she could hear this.  We talked about it together and arranged plans for Tenele to move home.  The joy in Tenele's face is absolutely priceless!  Moses gave us his cell phone number and we gave him ours and told him we'd (well, not me, but Christina) would be doing home visits to ensure Tenele's still there and treated well, etc.  I also arranged with them that when Christina takes Tenele to move back home, I'd bring some food, soap, candles, diapers, etc. so that they wouldn't be so burdened with taking care of two more lives right away.  Her mother was beaming with a smile from ear to ear.  Tenele said she really liked Moses and was excited to come home.  Her older sister Bongiwe was there, too, and told Tenele in English, "Make sure you don't lie" about coming home.  But they all looked so happy to be together, it was just so amazing!

When I left Tenele's home, I walked with her am in arm, beaming with joy and love together.  Then Tenele looked up at me with a big smile and said, "Mama, you go home on Monday, and I go home on Tuesday."

 It was the FIRST time Tenele has mentioned my leaving without her crying!  How incredible!  It will also soothe my own pain of leaving her, knowing that she as I am going home, so is she!

God's plans are truly not our own for a reason...because His are PERFECT, but He is Perfect.  He is our Jehovah-raah, the Shepherd, who not only provides and cares for us, but gives to us in abundance!  There is no greater love, no greater plan than His.  And there's no greater picture than a sheep and the shepherd to sum up God's pursuit of Tenele.  As a sheep, she strayed away, but the Lord stopped at nothing to call her back to him.  Now he is scooping her up in his arms, rejoicing in her, and holding her eternally in his truth.

Yes, Jehovah-raah, I will always follow you!

You Can't Leave Me

The other day when Tenele was over, she came into the kitchen with me as I prepared some pologny (a Swazi meat) sandwhiches for the kids.  Out of nowhere she blurts, "Mama, you can't leave."

We had briefly talked about how soon I am leaving, that I only have a little time left here.  I told her not to think about it, but she clearly couldn't get it out of her mind.  "I have to..." I said back to her.  But she shook her head.

"You can't leave," she said again, and when I shook my head yes she repeated, "No...no, no..."
I stopped slicing the meat and looked up at her; she held up baby MK over her face so I couldn't see her.  When I walked over to her, tears were streaming down her cheeks.  She fell into my hug and starting bawling.  She cried so hard, she was shaking.  Soon her tears became my own, and I wasn't sure what wet spots on my shirt were from her tears or mine.  We cried in an embrace together before I tried to console her.  But how can you console someone at a time like that?  She walked outside with her baby and Christina caught me in the hallway.  After asking if I was okay, I couldn't respond.  When she hugged me, I cried harded on Christina's shoulder.  She just let me cry for awhile before I cleared up enough to join Tenele outside.  We sat on the steps for a long time, and without any words we shared an incredible moment of being able to cry together.  I've cried FOR Tenele many, many times, but I have rarely been able to cry WITH Tenele.  Though it was painful, it was a blessing when she laid her head on my lap we cried and prayed together.

Eish. My time here is so short.  My departure will be the most painful one yet. But the best thing about tears is that God catches them because he loves and heals broken hearts. Jehovah-rapha, the God who Heals, is already working to mend the pain of being apart.  I tried to ensure that Tenele knows that even though I am physically leaving, the love I have for her never will because it belongs to the Lord--it comes from the Lord, the one who will NEVER leave her.  I can rest asured knowing my daughter is in the best of hands, which of course, are NOT my own.

Gomer's Girls

During our first meeting with Fr. Larry about the girls home (see a separate blog entry about details on the girls home), we explained Hosea's Heart and where the name came from.  He commented that we should name the house Gomer's House (after the woman named Gomer, whom the Lord had instructed the prophet Hosea to marry).  Though we already have a name for the home (Litsemba Lemphilo, which means Hope for Life), the name Gomer stuck with me, so that's what I entitled another part of our ministry here in Swaziland: Gomer's Girls, other prostitutes living in Mangwaneni like Tenele.

After visiting Tenele numerous times these past few weeks, I started noticing the stares from other women around her in the squatter camp.  At this point, they are familiar with me, can call me by name, and know that I am there to help Tenele.  A handful of her friends also asked for help for different things last year, but none of them has approached me this year.  I started noticing them a lot more this year.  Usually, I'm not very fond of looking around while I walk through Mangwaneni because you don't want to make eye contact with the wrong people, but I suddenly had this awareness of the other women around Tenele who ache for the same thing I am offering her: a chance for hope.  I waited until what I felt was the right timing (for safety reasons for my other teammates--it's very important that their faces are seen and they are introduced to a lot of people at the care point before they venture into the squatter camp with me; it's not what you know, but WHO you know) before we ministered to other women in the squatter camp.  These young women will not be seen at the carepoint; they are like Tenele and like Gomer in the fact that you must pursue them in order to help them.  They don't want to be seen, although they ache to be noticed. They don't want to be helped, although they starve for hope.  They don't want to leave their lifestyle, though they yearn for the chance to get out.  These are the Gomer's girls, and they are beautiful.

Last week I took my teammates to see Tenele with the goal of finding some more prostitutes to take out to lunch at KFC in town with us.  I spoke to Tenele for awhile before I proposed the idea.  She wasn't sure what to think at first, but then when I asked her who else we could help, her eyes lit up as she talked about her friend Nomsa. Tenele said Nomsa had just given birth to a baby boy recently but didn't know who the father was because she was a prostitute.  So we went on a search for one girl, and we ended up leaving the camp with six!

Interestingly enough, Christina and I had prayed that morning about God leading us to the right girls and I had verbalized to Christina how perfect it would be if we found six girls, because that would create great one on one conversations for each of my teammates.  God most definitely delighted in the prayer and in our obedience to his prompting in pursuing these girls.  Our time with Gomer's Girls was richly rewarded with conversation, laughter, KFC, and love.  One of the most surprising parts was that Tenele was not jealous at all that I was "sharing" the love, so to speak. In previous years, she was very jealous of to whom I gave my attention and love; however, this time she was relishing in the fact that her friends were also being loved on as well.

On the walk back home I was talking to Nomsa when a bus drove by with a SiSwati title on the side.  She read it outloud in English: "Heaven is my Home."  I took the opportunity to ask, "Nomsa, is heaven your home?"
   "Yes, Mahdi-Kate," she answered.  Buhle, the sixteen year old girl walking in front of us laughed heartily at Nomsa's remark.
   "Unemanga!" Buhle called Nomsa a liar.
   "No, really," Nomsa answered back.  "I'm going to heaven."
   Buhle laughed again at her friend as Nomsa claimed she had just gotten saved recently.
   "I'm serious, the pastor is coming this weekend," Nomsa told Buhle.
   I turned my conversation towards Buhle and said, "What about you, sisi?"
   Buhle just shook her head.  "Ei, ei... I don't know..." she said and refocused her attention in the direction ahead. Nomsa took the opportunity to laugh at Buhle and agreed that Buhle wasn't going to go to heaven.  I prodded Buhle further and asked if she believed in God.  She didn't quite know how to respond, so Nomsa explained, "She was a Christian when she was younger...but not anymore."

"Why is that?" I asked Buhle.  I'm not sure why I immediately asked what I did next, but it just slipped out: "Are you angry at God?"

The question struck something deep inside Buhle.  She slowly and immediately (almost without thinking) nodded her head that yes she is angry at God.  When I looked over at her, her eyes were moist with tears.

We took the girls out again later in the week, but Buhle wasn't there.  They came over to our house and we had some great dances, laughs, and talks.  We ended the evening with Nomsa's demand to pray.  It was amazing.  She also asked us to get them to come to church with us on Sunday.  Oh how beautiful!  Sandi, another eighteen year old with us, made a comment to Lindsay that she was going to get beat by her "boyfriend" when they walked back because she ate dinner with us and wasn't at "home" to cook for him.  Eish!  Though it's sad hearing about their stories, it was a blessing to be able to love on them and offer them hope, too. 

When Sunday rolled around, our team split up for church so that we could get to both churches, one in Timbutini and one in Moneni.  I went to Timbutini and the girls who went to Moneni got to experience a true miracle! You can read their blogs about it to hear firsthand, but I'll tell you why it's so incredible from my end.  Tenele knew I was going to be in Timbutini for church and I gave her the choice to join me or to stay with her friends and go to church in Moneni.  She told me she'd go with my teammates to Moneni; I couldn't be more thrilled because I want Tenele to go to church because she truly wants to, not just to impress me or to spend more time with me.  So it was sort of a test to see if she was serious about claiming that she "changed" her life.  So while I was at Timbutini, my teammates showed up to Tenele's only with the disappointment of Tenele refusing to come, which made the Gomer girls also refuse to come.  My teammates left Mangwaneni with frustrated, disappointed spirits as we had been looking forward to this all week.  They prayed the whole way (they rode a kombi) to church that the girls would somehow get to church anyway (this church is a four hour service by the way).

During the first hour of church, the girls saw Tenele coming up the hill!  And soon behind her appeared the Gomer girls!  They "randomly" decided to go to church even though the kombi and the group had already left, so they WALKED all the way to church (and it's a long walk)!  The pastor felt so moved by the spirit that he switched his entire sermon and focused it on prostitution (he didn't know these girls were coming, by the way, or that they were prostitutes!).  He called them out on living in a life of sin but also took a very tender side of the issue by siding with the women by shaming the men.  As the girls told me later about all that this pastor said, I couldn't help but swell with joy knowing that finally more males are taking a stand for their women and trying to help these young women out of this lifestyle.  At one point during the service, the pastor did an altar call for prayer, for leaving the temptations, for protection, etc. and Tenele was the first to rise, leading the Gomer girls as they followed her leadership up to the pastor for prayer!  What a miracle!  And praise the Lord I wasn't there, because I know Tenele is doing this for her and not for any other reason.

Praise the Lord and keep the Gomer girls in your prayers.

Because I Love You

Eish! So much has happened, it's hard to know where to start!
Some highlights of this last packed week...

Ayanda's birthday!  Last year while I was here, I got to celebrate Pununu's, Johannes', and Tenele's birthdays but missed Ayanda's, so it was a blessing to be here with her to celebrate!  Hanna and Alex made pizza for dinner (which we ate without the kids because they didn't show up until three hours after the party was supposed to start...TIA).  But they enjoyed the cake, and we had a dance party, which was one of my highlights of the entire trip!  Tenele was even dancing and I swung baby MK around as we danced, too!  But the best dancer award goes to Pununu during "Shake baby shake!" OH MY GOODNESS can this kid DANCE! Seriously!  Why don't guys dance like this in America??

Another big event at the end of the week was Mlilwane Game Park!  So last the last time I took the kids to Mlilwane was when Tenele flipped out into one of her mood swings, deserted us at the game park, and attempted to walk all the way home.  Well this time was quite the opposite!  This day was by far my favorite day in Swaziland this trip!  My Swazi friends Marcia and Ncobile kindly drove us to the park and celebrated the day with us, though they refused to step foot near the freezing cold pool!  But the rest of us jumped in...even if it took me awhile...I actually wasn't planning on getting in.  I figured I'd been there several times, there's no need to go swimming.  Tenele tried convincing me but I still refused until she hugged me and said, "Please, Mama?"  Eish, how can you deny that?!  So I worked my way in and came up squealing from the freezing water.  Worth it?  To make Tenele-Bell smile, fo sho!

It was amazing watching Tenele with her baby but also seeing Tenele be a girl.  She's 17 years old now, but she never really experience childhood as we know of it...so it was precious seeing the childlike joy on her face all day long.  Her tenderness is something I've haven't seen since I met her four years ago!  Praise the Lord!  Also, it was wonderful seeing her interact with Marcia and Ncobile; Tenele has a bitterness towards her own adults, and acted with disrespect (culturally) a lot before, but she was very kind and respectful to Marcia and Ncobile and they could immediately identify the beautiful change taking place in Tenele's heart.

On Sunday, we walked to Mangwaneni to pick up Tenele for church (because she requested that we come for her) but she refused to come.  She was cooking for some people at a little shop in Mangwaneni so she couldn't go, but I knew something else was up.  She walked around with us to gather the other kids, but then refused to join.  Even Cedric tried convincing her to come, but when she said no, he turned to me and said, "Eish, sorry Mary-Kate she doesn't want to go. Sorry."  I'm really starting to love Cedric more and more, too.  He has a sad story from his childhood, too, and the more I interact with him, the more my heart breaks for him, too.  Before we left, Tenele told her friend to explain that she was too embarrassed to go to church because she didn't have any church clothes.  She had borrowed some from Ayanda before but doesn't have any of her own.  When I looked over at Tenele, tears were coming down her face as she tried hiding behind her baby.

It was so hard walking away knowing Tenele was hurting, but still not really understanding exactly what was going on with her.  I told Lindsay on the walk back that God put his heart in my heart for Tenele so when she cries I cry, when she's sad, I'm sad; I can't control it, but my heart was just so heavy knowing hers was too.
But the next day I got a phone call from an eager Tenele who told me she left the shop.
"Mama, I'm leaving," she said.
"What? Leaving what?"
"I'm leaving the shop so when you come I am available," she explained.
Then it hit me that part of the reason Tenele was upset and crying was because she really wanted to come with but couldn't because she was working at the shop, so she told me she wants to stop so that she can be with me every time I come for her.   "Because I love you," she said. 

How many times have I said that to her? It was amazing to hear it back after all this time away.  It was amazing to know that Tenele was going to sacrifice her chance at earning some money because she "loves me" and thinks time with me is more important than money.  Wow.

And isn't that what the Lord says to us again and again?  "Because I love you..." 

Living in a Miracle

The general theme of my last year here with Tenele was "one step forward, two steps back" so I naturally expected to see that again this trip.  I knew the initial joyous meetings with Tenele would soon turn into sad ones as she was bound to retreat as in the year before.  Every time I walk down the squatter camp to find Tenele, my stomach knots up because I'm sometimes afraid to see her because I don't want to see her drunk or high or smoking, etc. like the many times that happened last year; most of all, I didn't want to see her run away from me anymore, because it always hurt more than I pretended it didn't.  So, last week when Tenele would tell me she would come to the house to visit, I smiled, knowing deep inside she really wouldn't show up, knowing all too well that she doesn't follow through with her word.

Wow, was I in for a surprise!  One step forward, two steps back?  No way!  This is like a LEAP I've seen in her for these past couple weeks.  It's so incredible, I hardly know how to put it into words.  I feel like I'm living in a miracle here.  Tenele follwed through on her word EVERY time except once, and she's proving that her words are no longer empty promises.  I've gone to see her a good number of times already and it was actually really great to see Cedric, too.  He seems like he is genuinely trying to provide for Tenele and the baby.  The situation is not good, of course, as he still beats her, he still gets drunk, and one time when I went to see Tenele, he was sitting outside their hut with a group of guys smoking weed.  Obviously, this is not a good environment for anyone, but I don't want this to disprove a small change I've seen in Cedric, too.

In order to empower Tenele who had voiced her need for laundry soap and diapers, my teammates and I decided to have Tenele over to wash/teach us to wash our clothes.  She showed up (ON TIME) for laundry day with a smile on her face and her baby on her back.  She was so happy "teaching" us how to wash our clothes, and she was a very hard worker herself.  She laughed at me several times as I scrubbed some clothes.  After giggling at my apparently not so great washing skills she came over, took the soap from me and said, "Like this, Mama," and continued scrubbing.  We paid Tenele for her teaching and working session, and she was so joyful.

I brought over a bunch of donated baby clothes, basically an ENTIRE suitcase full!  So Tenele also came over another time to do some "shopping" through the suitcase and pick out clothes for baby MK.  She was so precious going through the clothes.  Her eyes lit up at every little piece of used or new clothing.  And baby MK looks so gorgeous in all of them.  It's actually so wonderful seeing baby MK in all of these clothes as the trip goes on.  :)

Though Tenele isn't completely changed, she is a living miracle nonetheless.  She has voiced her desire to leave Cedric, to find a job so she can move out and pay for a place on her own for her and her baby.  Her life is not necessarily better, but her heart definitely is!  Tenele went to Timbutini church with us last Sunday, so that was so wonderful, too!  In one sense, I wish I could stay here and take Tenele and the baby in with me.  But I know it's not what I'm called to do.  It's an "easy" fix in my mind, but as Christina likes to say, "Our plans are not always God's plans."  How true that is, and how true that has been on this trip.  I have lots of plans and ideas for Tenele and for the girls home and for our work here, but God has better ideas.  I may have to wait for them, which is hard, but I know His plans are perfect.  God keeps reminding me this trip to not just PUT my trust in Him, but KEEP my trust in Him.

So KEEP my trust in Him I will. Afterall, how can I NOT when He is allowing me to live in his miracle.  There is no greater gift I've ever had in my entire life than this ability to experience His miracles in progress.
So as the simple yet powerful prayer goes,
Here I am, Lord; use me!

I Am Who I Am

For our evening devotions, we have been going through a book called, "Lord, I Want to Know You."  It goes through all the names of God and how his characters are revealed in Scripture.  It's been very engaging and empowering for us to learn to know our God more intimately.  In light of the study, here's poem that I've compiled for a few of his names.

I Am Who I Am (Jehovah)
I AM El Roi -- The God Who Sees
Where you see darkness and dirt
I see desire and desperation.
Where you see poverty and rags,
I see humility and healing.
Where you see brokenness and tears,
I see beauty and restoration.
I AM the God Who Sees.

I AM El Shaddai -- The All-Sufficient One
When you feel lonely and forgotten
My love revives you.
When you cry out in bitterness
My grace covers over you.
When you feel used and dried up
My waters flow freely to you.
I AM the All-Sufficient One.

I Am Elohim -- your Creator
Where you think you're ugly
I make only perfection
Where you think you're a mistake
I form only a masterpiece.
Where you doubt your worth
I hold a treasure.
I AM your Creator.

I AM El Elyon-- God Most High
When you fall short
Fall on me.
When you stand tall
stand on me.
When you finally break
Break for me.
I AM God Most High

I Am Adonai -- your Master
Where you're bound by fleshly pleasure
I break your chains.
Where you seek fulfillment elsewhere
I serve you.
Where you're trapped in lies
I set you free.
I Am your Master.

I see you when you don't see me.
I am enough for you even when you doubt me.
I've created your beauty though you fail to see
You hold onto your chains though I've set you free.
When will you believe?
I AM.

Tears of Change

After first meeting Tenele, she insisted that I meet this friend of hers who had taken her to church a few weeks back.  A man named Sandile, excitedly came over to talk with me about Tenele, so Tenele left the two of us alone to chat.  Sandile was amazed at what Tenele had told him about me, and I was amazed at everything Tenele told him about me!  Apparently, she left no little detail out; for example, Sandile told me he was so moved that I had cried for Tenele.  She had told him a specific instance when I had cried finding her drunk and high.  I was shocked that Tenele had told him all of this, because I hadn't cried in front of Tenele in those moments.  But I do remember the exact day when I told Tenele how much I do hurt over her life and I talked and talked and talked at her, sharing my heart, my pain, my tears in trying to help her.  It was towards the end of my nine months over a year ago when I had taken her and some other kids to Mlilwane Game Park for a day of fun.  She had gotten into one of her "moods" and basically ran away from us at the game park.  She claimed she was going to walk home (which was about a 30 minute DRIVE) and refused to get in the car with us.  So, I got out of the car, handed the keys to another volunteer and told her to drive ahead and then wait for us.  I walked with Tenele side by side but she was so unresponsive.  I had told her we weren't leaving her behind, so if she didn't get in the car then I would walk with her.  She still refused to talk to me, so this is when I talked "at" her, and shared the frustration of my last 8 months trying to help her and how I cried seeing her drunk and high and not wanting to change.  She remained quiet the whole time I talked so I had no idea if she even understood my English or what I was telling her.  I wasn't even sure if it was the right thing to share how frustrated I was with her; but apparently it was, because over a year later, she told that to this man, Sandile!  It was an example of how God can use absolutely anything as a seed of change!

So Sandile told me how he has been "preaching" to Tenele and encouraging her to change her life. He took her to church a few weeks ago!  And he wanted me to join them for church so he could bless me.  How amazing!  God is so incredible.  Not only had I prayed for Tenele but for others to help her change as well.  She couldn't change on her own, so it was amazing to hear about another Swazi with a heart for God who loved Tenele enough to want her to change. 

So my teammates and I went to church that weekend together with Sandile, Tenele, Temu, Londi, and baby M-K!  It ended up being a FOUR hour long service, but it didn't feel like it!  It was so spirit filled and amazing being able to worship with Tenele next to me and baby M-K with us, too!  At the end of the service Tenele wanted the pastor to pray for her, but it was taking too long so we went home to Mangwaneni.  I asked her if she'd let us (as a team) pray over her and she nodded anxiously!  So we put our hands on her and prayed Swazi style, (all of us outloud at once).  When we finished, she had tears streaming down her cheeks.  She pulled away from the group and wouldn't face us.  I gently put my arms around her and she turned to me and buried her crying eyes on the crook of my neck.  I didn't know why she was crying but I could sense they were good tears.  Tears of change.  She let herself cry in front of us all, and it was so beautiful!  

I am amazed.  I am amazed to my teammates and how every single one of them has welcomed and loved Tenele with open arms.  Usually it takes Tenele a long time to talk to and trust anyone, but she trusts my teammates and it's incredible!  Ah, the Lord is faithful!  He is active and loving!  I am so so so so so so so humbled to be a part of his work in Tenele's heart. I cannot WAIT to see all the more he will do!

Continue to pray for her and us.  We praise God for His faithfulness and FREEDOM!

Praise God for tears of change!